Makes Three
by The Queen of Hyperbole
Summary: One-shot. Cid is certain Shera's illness is back with all these clues laying about the house... Post-Advent Children.


Cid sat glumly at the kitchen table, puffing on a cigarette as he turned the rather troubling clues he'd found scattered throughout the house over the last couple of days about his mind. He wished his woman would just tell him what was wrong, instead of leaving vague hints lying all over the place for him to figure out, like he was fucking Sherlock Holmes. Cid had his suspicions, but he didn't even want to think about that.

First, there'd been the new bottle of meds in the medicine cabinet. In her name. And it wasn't Tylenol or basic lady pills or nothing like that. Oh no. It was in a fancy, prescription-only orange bottle with instructions on how and when to take them and refill instructions with a funny name he couldn't pronounce right there on the label. He thought they'd cleared out all that shit once he'd taken her to Aeris' church and dunked her in the pool until her geostigma had cleared up, but here was a brand new one. All he'd wanted was a little Advil for his stiff back. He'd been out in the shop all day, bent over his latest engine innovation (this one was gonna take off. He just knew it. This one was so great, eventually they'd put it in everything) and his back was stiff and throbbing by the time he'd finally called it quits. He'd gone into the bathroom, opened up the medicine cabinet, and left with such disgust he'd gone right back out into the shop with no pain meds and started fiddling with odds and ends. He hadn't come in for supper that night and once he'd come in for the evening, he'd slept on the couch.

Then, he'd found the invoice from the doctor's office in the covered desk they kept in the living room. Shera had suggested putting one in there for a while to keep track of the bills and keep them organized. He hadn't seen the point (the little table by the door worked just fine, but _no_, it was always so messy and people could just walk right up and look at their personal information, or some shit like that) but he went out and got her one anyway. Happy wife, happy life, or whatever the hell that phrase was. Anyway, he'd been looking for their last supply list and had come across the invoice neatly tucked away in the cubby she used to store all of her medical information in (definitely Shera's doing too, since the envelope was neatly opened, not torn to shreds, and the letter was refolded with care and placed back inside its original envelope, not thrown carelessly on the pile of all his business invoices and order forms). He'd opened up the envelope and had a good look at the insides. She had scheduled the appointment the day before she'd gone in, so it wasn't some yearly check-up or whatever. He was pretty sure she did those on the same day every year anyway. She'd gone in because of _something._

And of course, there was the fact that she'd been eating pretty light because she didn't feel well. Okay, so she hadn't told him that directly, but he was more observant than everybody gave him credit for. The geostigma had done that to her, too. She'd been nauseous all the time and had gone whole days without eating anything because her stomach couldn't handle it.

Cid shook his head to clear his thoughts and snuffed the end of his cigarette in the ashtray on the tabletop. He didn't want to voice what he was thinking. If she was sick again… But he wouldn't let that happen. That year she'd been sick had been one of the worst of his life, and he'd really been enjoying life with Shera lately. They'd been married almost a full year now, and she'd been in remission for about two. He understood, now, why they called it the honeymoon phase. They'd been so happy this past year, and now the Universe had conspired to let it rain shit on him again.

Faintly, he heard the front door open in the living room (no crashing through doors for his woman, nuh-uh. She was a fucking lady!).

"Cid?" she called once she'd placed her keys in the little bowl on the table (another organization tool brought in by Ms. Anal) and placed her shoes and bag in the closet (again, no mess left behind where she tread. Why had she married him of all people again?).

"In here, Sher." he replied as he lit another cigarette. They were gonna have to talk about things. It was eating him up inside.

She poked her head around the doorframe. "Oh, there you are!" she smiled and stepped into the kitchen. "Hello, darling. How was your day?" She walked over to where he sat and bent down to place a kiss on his cheek.

He grunted. "'S fine." He really had no interest in small talk at the moment. He was too preoccupied with what he knew had to be said. He was too nervous about what her answer might be. He was too scared to think that she might be that close to being gone again.

"Oh? Is that reactor acting up again? I really think we ought to rewire the whole board, don't you? Maybe invest in some new casings?" He hummed his agreement and continued to puff on his cigarette. _Come on, Highwind,_ he thought to himself. _Out with it. Just ask her what the fuck is going on!_

"Are you sure everything is all right?" she asked as she began to pull pots and pans out of the cupboards to prepare dinner, shooting him a puzzled look while she filled up the teakettle with fresh water.

"Yeah, everything's fine." It came out a little bit harsh and a lot more annoyed than he'd meant it to, which made him wince. He didn't want to revert back to old habits just because he was so frustrated.

He sighed and stood up. "Look, Shera," he began. "We need to talk about something."

"Oh?" she replied as she obviously avoided eye contact with him. She placed the teakettle on the stove and turned the burner on.

"If you've got something you need to tell me, just come out and say it. Don't do the whole beat around the fucking bush thing. You know I can't stand that…"

Hesitatingly, she said, "Alright. Cid, I've got something I need to tell you."

He nodded once. "I already know what it's about."

"You…you do?" she turned toward him fully. "Then why did you insist that I tell you. If you already know, why do you insist that I..." She shook her head and waved her hand in the air, dismissing the subject. "Oh nevermind, I-"

"I've known for a couple days now. I saw the meds in the cabinet and the invoice from the doc's office. Shit, Shera. Why didn't ya tell me?" He looked at her sullenly.

"Oh, Cid," she said, flashing him a quick, apologetic smile as she walked towards him. "I'm sorry, darling. I-"

"Shera, I can't go through it again." She stopped short, but he closed the remaining space between them and cradled the back of her head with one hand while the other grabbed her about the waist and drew her close. "I can't be thinkin' that at any moment I could lose you again. I-I just can't."

"'Again?' Cid…I don't understand." Her eyebrows were drawn together and she was sporting that little frown she got when she was puzzling through a difficult problem. Any other time, he would have found the look utterly adorable and endearing; at the moment it was breaking his heart.

"Sher, what am I gonna do i-if…" His voice was rough and raw and his eyes were beginning to turn red about the rims. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her and held her so tightly she fought for breath. "We'll find a way to get you better. I ain't gonna lose you. You already beat the stigma once, it ain't gonna take you this time. I ain't gonna let it!" He tightened the embrace, if possible, as though at any moment she would slip from his grasp and be gone. He buried his nose in the curve of her neck and tried to hold in the tears he knew were coming. She trembled as she began to quietly sob as well.

"Cid, I," she had to stop to compose herself. It was then that Cid noticed she wasn't crying, but laughing. Small, nearly silent little laughs were causing her shoulders to shake as she tried to hold them back. He released her and took a step back, completely befuddled. "Oh, Cid! My geostigma isn't back. In fact, as far as I know, there haven't been any reported cases of second attacks. No, darling, I-" She stopped abruptly and took a deep breath, then gave a single, resolute nod, as if encouraging herself. "I'm pregnant."

Cid froze and stared wide-eyed at her for a solid minute. Maybe an hour. He wasn't really sure. This was just so left of center from what he'd been expecting. His mind buzzed and the blood rushed in his ears. Pregnant, that was what they called it when women had babies, right? He suddenly couldn't remember properly. Images (diapers and bottles and rattles) and ideas (paint the spare room, start a savings account…schooling was expensive!) bounced around so quickly he couldn't process a single one. His head was beginning to ache. That _was_ what Shera was talking about, right?

"P-pregnant?" he stuttered, completely flabbergasted. "As in, baby pregnant?"

She gave a little laugh. "I'm not entirely sure there's another way for a person to be pregnant, but yes. We're expecting a baby."

"When?" he demanded.

"The doctor says I'm about eight weeks along. So it should arrive sometime in the winter. Just before the new year, probably."

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

She let out another little chuckle, like his stupidity about all things baby was amusing or something. Her wide smile was crinkling the corner of her eyes. "Well, it's a little too early to tell yet. I won't have any way of knowing for at least a few months, that is, if we decide we'd like to know beforehand at all. I don't really mind either way, do you?"

"Is it healthy?" he continued, not meaning to ignore her question, but too eager to know as much as he could before his mind completely shut down on him. Remembering the lit cigarette in the ashtray, he rushed towards the table and snuffed it as quickly as possible.

"As far as they can tell, yes, it is."

"Shit, I gotta quit the cigs. Who knows what those have done to it already."

"Well, you wouldn't have to quit entirely. Only move to the garden or into the shop when you want one. At least until it's born."

"No, I'll quit. I ain't gonna do that to 'em," he mumbled. He was still having a difficult time processing the news. He sat down heavily in the nearest chair. "How long have you known?"

"Not long," she said as she walked to the cabinet and pulled out two tea mugs. Not that he could focus on that at the moment. He hadn't even noticed the kettle was whistling. He was too busy staring at the floorboards in front of him, completely dazed and caught off-guard with the news. "I suspected early last week and tried an at-home test. When it came out positive, I made an appointment with the doctor, just to be sure." She poured tea for the both of them and brought it over to the table, setting one mug down in front of him on the table before taking the seat across from his. She quietly sipped her tea as she waited for him to process all the new information.

Eventually, he turned in the chair and gazed at her. "Holy shit," he mumbled again. "You're gonna be a mom?"

She smiled shyly and ducked her head, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "And you're going to be a father."

"Fuck!" This time, his eyes widened and the color drained from his face. "Aw, shit!"

She gave a short huff of laughter, the hand holding her mug pausing halfway between the table and her mouth. "To be completely honest, that was more the response I was anticipating."

"Shit, Shera! How am _I _going to be a _dad?_"

"I think you'll make a wonderful father!" she half cried, indignantly, setting the mug back on the table.

"I don't know shit about being a dad! What the hell do I know about raising kids?!"

"I don't think it's knowledge that anyone is born with, or thinks they're ready for when it happens. I think it's more the kind you gain with experience. At least, that's what I've always been told."

"I ain't got a single clue about these things," he sighed. "I mean…what if I drop it on its head? Or forget about it? Or…or, I don't know, just generally fuck it up?"

"Luckily for us, someone has written down all of those secrets of how and how not to take care of an infant in a little book and published them. If you'd like, we can go into town tomorrow and pick up some books on babies. Just so we're a bit more prepared."

Dazedly, he nodded his head. "Yeah," he responded quietly. "I guess that'd work." He finally turned toward his tea, now lukewarm, and took a large gulp. "I just can't believe I'm gonna be a dad. Shit!"

She stood, then, and walked towards him, gently settling in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the fingers of one hand twining in his short, soft hair, and pressed a quick kiss to his stubbly cheek. "I think, with some preparation and some practice, you'll be the best father on the face of the Planet."

He snorted and gave her a hesitant half-smile while wrapping his arms about her waist. "Ya think?"

She nodded and gave him a big smile. "Indeed I do." She placed a hand on his cheek and turned his face until he was looking at her. She pressed her lips to his in a gentle, reassuring way. "Besides, you've practically adopted the younger set of AVALANCHE, so this won't be so different. Babies are just a bit smaller, and maybe a bit more difficult at first, though I think if you've survived the Wutainian princess, you can survive a baby."

He huffed and then chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I am the fucking Old Man of the group. They whine and moan about as much as babies. God knows they cry enough, too." His smile faded and he looked back to her. "Do you really think I'll be okay?"

She gave a cheerful nod. "I'll think you'll do brilliantly. At least we'll have each other."

"Yeah, at least there's that."

* * *

An Author's note: I absolutely love stories that revolve around my favorite pairs and babies. Unfortunately for Cid/Shera shippers, we don't have many stories in general, let alone future, domestic pieces. So I decided to take a stab at one myself. I don't write often, but I feel like I've spent enough time creating headcannons for Cid and Shera that this came quite easily. Constructive criticism is welcomed!

I also have no clue what I'm talking about when it comes to machinery and mechanical parts, so just roll with that section, alright? I tried to keep it as vague as possible without it sounding unintelligible.


End file.
